Religion and Identity; Sex and Spirituality; Penises and Breasts…

Christian church in Ethiopia

Now I have no problem with the LGBTQ community in general and would like to think I could even qualify as the ‘A’ in ‘ally’, not ‘alley’, that sometimes puts the pickle on that little alphabetic sandwich, attached by wooden toothpick and a little smile to last a little while, even though I don’t deliberately seek gays out, though seem to usually have one or two as friends, BUT…

…that doesn’t mean that I buy the entire narrative, especially the ‘born this way’ rap which was once de rigueur back in the days of last-line don’t-attack-the-victim defense, very quaint and old-fashioned charming now that ‘gender fluidity’ is all the rage, and there is increasingly little to be ashamed of in the first place, so no reason to claim DNA as a defense, if there is no offense, and given the lack of any proof of a ‘gay gene’ any more than a ‘basketball gene’ or even a ‘black gene’, really…

…given that pigment genes tend to mix, somehow, much less a ‘backpacker gene’, but what concerns me is the identity with sexuality—any sexuality—in the first place. Is this all we’ve accomplished in the last ten thousand years, to come to blows (no pun) over who gets access to whose genitals, and by what means and for what purpose? I guess so. Strike one for civilization, i.e. city-fication.

We were better off in the wild, where queer was queer, and that was that, no big deal and nothing to fear. Now we’re forced to draw the lines of decency, circling the wagons, dotting ‘I’s and crossing ‘T’s, consulting the prophets and taking a loss. What a waste of time, and what a loss of dignity, that we’re so busy greasing the wheels (pun) of our lower chakras, that we have no time for the larger questions with the trickier answers, enigmas all wrapped up in riddles and garnished with mysteries left to lightly ferment…

Sorry, LGBTQ-ers, but sexuality should really be nothing to celebrate, IMHO, but simply accepted and left lying loosely bound in favor of bigger and better things to discuss—or maybe that’s just me. I really don’t even like female cleavage, truth be told, and find it rather an offensive statement upon our Western culture, that beauty is dependent upon a ‘good rack’ exposed and left bare for viewing, subject to the Seinfeld rules of engagement: that “you only get a sense of it, without staring, and then you move on…”, got it, BUT…

I’ve got a better idea: why not cover up in public? Do we really need to compare reproductive body parts? Should men expose the upper shaft of their penises in order to attract suitable mates, ready and willing to reproduce the species at the drop of a hat, or at least give it the old college try? To be honest, I’d rather forego any and all displays of public affection as poor taste and even poorer manners…

But I digress. Identity is the issue, and if Eckhart Tolle is correct by saying we should not identify with our non-stop narratives and resultant ‘ego-bodies’, then he drops the ball by not saying what we should identify with…or should we just stare mindlessly into the eternal NOW of infinite time and the eternal HERE of infinite space? But I can hear the answer now: not mindlessly, no, but mindfully…

…and that’s absolutely correct. I suggest we identify with what I’ll provisionally call the ‘God-urge’, our highest natures, the gut instinct of all good people to believe in truth, beauty, goodness, and all things exalted so that we might rise above the suffering inherent in our 3-D world of stuff and roughage, fibers and fibbers. There is something better ‘out there’, in here, if only we can find a path to it…